


We're No One (A Joshler Fanfic)

by FreckledGoddess



Category: BLURRYFACE - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Twenty One Pilots, joshler - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Bad Decisions, Basketball!Tyler, Bisexual!Josh, Bisexual!Tyler, Blow Jobs, Blue-haired Josh, Childhood Friends, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fanfiction, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Highschool AU, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Internalized Homophobia, Josh Dun's Family - Freeform, Josh has an addiction, Josh is 19, M/M, NSFW, No Underage Sex, Original Character(s), Poetry, Recreational Drug Use, Religious Guilt, Sadness, Smoking, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Tyler Joseph's Family - Freeform, Tyler is 18, Tyler's traumatized, angst angst angst, anxious!josh, blurryface - Character - Freeform, emotional strain, i'll probably add more, joshler - Freeform, punk!josh, runaways - Freeform, schizophrenic!Tyler, twenty one pilots - Freeform, tyler joseph - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8883748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledGoddess/pseuds/FreckledGoddess
Summary: Tyler and Josh were inseparable from ages 2 to 12, until Josh had to move away to California. He comes back Tyler's senior year.Bad decisions and hurt ensue.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This story may contain triggering content, please read at your own risk.

_“Josh, that’s gross!”_

_“You think she’ll think I’m cool?”_

_“No! Don’t eat it!”_

_Josh frowned, whispered a goodbye before he crouched down and lowered the small worm back into the grass. He dusted the dirt from his hands and looked toward his best friend, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest, effectively dirtying his striped shirt from target. His mom had just bought it for him the week before yet he seldom cared much for what he wore; being the ripe age of nine years old, he had yet to develop his own style that didn’t consist of dinosaurs and dirt-stained khaki shorts._

  
_Josh kicked the dry dirt beneath his sandals in a pout. “How am I supposed to get girls to like me then, Tyler?”_

_“Girls don’t like it when you do gross things.” Tyler bent over a little to observe the pink worm as it burrowed its way back into the earth, his slender nose wrinkling in distaste._

_“Well then I don’t like girls!” Josh stated as he proudly put his hands on his hips._

_Tyler shook his head, as though he was disappointed. “Who are you gonna marry if you don’t like girls, dummy?”_

_“I'll marry a boy. That way, we can do gross things all the time." Josh insisted, though he spoke it like it was obviously the correct choice. Tyler's brows drew together on his forehead, frown deepening._

_"My mom says marrying boys is wrong."_

 

_“I don’t care what your mom thinks.”_

_“You don’t care what anyone thinks, Josh. That’s why we’re best friends.”_

_Tyler was smiling then, crooked and big, as he straightened up, digging into the pocket of his acid wash shorts that he’s had for two years. The wrapper of a tootsie roll crinkled softly in his grip before he pull it out, twisting open the wrapper and carelessly letting it fall to the patchy grass. The warmth of the summer sun and his activities of the day had melted it partially, making it sticky and easy to pull into two chocolatey, messy pieces. Tyler offered one half to Josh, who graciously took it and popped it into his mouth without a second thought._

_Tyler placed the other half on his tongue, brushing away the wrapper at his feet. Josh bent down, picking up the wrapper that Tyler had disposed of. The fourth grader crinkled it up and stuffed it into the back pocket of his shorts._

_“You’re weird. No one collects candy wrappers.”_

_“I do.” Josh defended, his pink tongue sticking out at Tyler before he looked to his home across the streets. He saw his mother on the fronts steps then, before hearing her call his name._

_“I’m coming!” Josh shouted back, looking at Tyler and smiling. “Bike ride to the gas station tomorrow? I’ve been saving up my allowance.”_

_“Me too.” Tyler nodded quickly in agreement, stuffing his hands into his pockets before he saw Josh turning around and quickly running to his house. Once at the opposite sidewalk, the fourth grader turned and waved frantically in goodbye. Tyler took his hand out to wave back, before Josh ran the rest of the way up his front steps and to his mother._

_Tyler smacked his lips and trudged through the grass, running up the concrete steps before he opened the screen door and pushed through the front and into his home..._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First official chapter! This is the first story I'm writing on my own, so I encourage anyone who reads this to please leave constructive criticism :) (Or if you're just joshler trash like me and are just looking for anything to read, I hope you do enjoy)  
> This story is gonna be pretty slow paced, so sorry to anyone who's looking for a quick read because this isn't it xP
> 
> Hope you like it!

 

_Snap. Snap. Snap._

 

"Have you been doing your homework?"

 

_Snap. Snap._

 

"...I talked to some of your teachers. Are you having more difficulty focusing?"

 

_Snap._

 

"Tyler."

 

"Hm?" Tyler looked up, licking the sore on the inside of his lip where his teeth had torn the skin. It stung, much like the patch where his wrist met his forearm as saliva coated the sensitive wound. Rubbing his chapped lips together, his eyes scanned the look on his counselor's face, despondent. "Sorry..." He apologized, shoulders hunching as he rubbed the thin rubber band between his thumb and index finger. He fought the urge to pull it back and release once more. 

"It's all right. What's distracting you?" His counselor asked, the woman's french-manicured fingernails gently tapped on the notepad she held propped on her knee. "Is he here right now?"

"No, Blurry doesn't like people."

"But you still see him."

"Yeah."

Tyler's eyes closed before opening wide once more, blinking before glancing up to the fluorescent lights of the office. He didn't like them. They hurt his eyes. Tyler shook his head, picking at his fingernails absently before he spotted a hangnail on his thumb. He wrinkled his nose, grabbing the thin strip of skin and beginning to peel it.

"You've been eating? Taking your medication?"

"Yeah." _No._ Tyler flicked the skin from his finger once it came off, a microscopic bead of blood now appearing on his thumb. Bright red, hot. Tyler's brows furrowed and his lifted his thumb to his lip, pressing the side of his thumb against his tongue to try and get the bleeding to stop. When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, he tucked his thumb under his other four fingers and put his fists between his thighs.

He hated taking his meds, hated swallowing pills that didn't work or made it worse. "I wanna go home." Tyler mumbled, glancing toward the clock. He'd been here forty-five minutes now, talking about things that he didn't want to talk about. Tyler's knee bounced, foot brushing the grey carpet of the counselor's office as the woman flicked back her box-dyed blonde hair and folded the cover of her notebook back over. Tyler felt a weight being lifted off his chest, exhaling silently through his nostrils as he sucked on his teeth.

"All right, I think we've had a good session. Give me a call if you need to, Tyler. Want me to call your mother?" The counselor stood from her chair and moved around to behind the burgundy desk tucked into the corner of the room.

"I'll walk."

"Okay. Have a good week, Tyler."

 

Tyler shut the door behind himself when he left the room. 

He grabbed his hoodie and pulled it over his head, smoothing down his hair in the process before stuffing his fists into his pockets. The air chilled him when he stepped outside the building, a gust of wind hitting his face unpleasantly. It smelled of wet leaves and winter air, better than the heat he felt during the day when the sun was out and proudly beating down on the city of Columbus, making children everywhere quite happy that winter hadn't yet cancelled their outdoor activities. Fall was a weird season but it was Tyler's favorite.

A season of death, it was. It was Blurry's favorite, too.

Tyler's feet dragged against the concrete sidewalk of his familiar neighborhood road, orange street lights casting his shadow behind him; he was afraid to turn around. Someone, some _thing_ was stalking him. Heart stuttering in his chest, Tyler picked up his pace and grabbed the string of his hoodie to roughly yank. The wind bit at his exposed fingers, his old tennis shoes kicking away whatever rock was unfortunate enough to be in his path.

_Snap. Snap._

Tyler shivered without control and scratched at his knuckles, eyes blinking rapidly as he finally looked up from the pavement to try and make out the shapes of the houses he passed. Close. _So close._ It clawed at Tyler's heels, ripped at the back of his hood when it flew off his head. Wind brushed through his hair and scalp and his feet picked up on his increasing panic, heart pounding its fists on his confining ribcage to where Tyler thought it would burst out of his chest and spill onto his front lawn.

Tyler was running now, to the familiar concrete steps and red front door of his childhood home. Throwing open the screen, he tore through the doorway and slammed it shut behind him, back now pressed against its wooden surface. The monster chasing him slammed into the now closed door, blocked by the physical barrier. He was safe once more.

 

Tyler swallowed, frigid digits now grabbing his hoodie's zipper to pull it downward. His mother's voice met his ears now, soft and angelic.

"Welcome home, sweetie. You hungry?" She called from the kitchen as Tyler stepped on the backs of his shoes and slipped his feet out of them.

"No, I'm okay." Tyler answered as his hands hung his hoodie onto one of the hooks in his entry way, eyes crawling from the floor to the living room around him. He looked briefly into the mirror by the door, one of his fingers twirling in his hair before his feet walked off the entry carpet and onto the colder wooden floor. He saw his younger brother sitting on the couch but didn't greet him, instead making his way to the stairs so he could go and lock himself in his room. Tyler's hand gently brushed the railing as he skipped two at a time on the stairs, releasing it once at the top and locking his eyes to his bedroom door. 

Tyler was greeted with the familiar place he'd spent his entire life in. Dirty clothes littered the floor, trinkets and awards lined the shelves hung on the walls and his bed consisted of white sheets and a navy blue comforter. The awards reminded him of better times, happier times. Most were basketball related, where he actually had a care for the sport and it wasn't just a strung bond between him and the rest of his family. Between not being miserable and letting his whole family down by quitting the sport, Tyler chose to be miserable. Was that so wrong of him?

Tyler's eyes carved out his bed before he sank down onto the edge of the mattress, contemplating the homework still stuffed into his bag from when he had gotten home from school that day. His grades were average... At least he wasn't failing, but that didn't mean that he didn't need improvement. He knew his mother would appreciate it if he tried a little harder some days.

But Tyler didn't want to do it. So, he wouldn't.

 

_Welcome home._

"Go away." Tyler fought lazily as he fell back against his comforter, grabbing onto one of his pillows to bury his face into. If he pressed hard enough, could he suffocate himself?

 

_I missed you._

 

Tyler curled up, ignoring the voice coming from the corner of his room as his knees tucked into his chest. He didn't want to deal with Blurry. Not right now. The room felt colder and he was suddenly wishing that he had left his hoodie on. Tyler's fists tightened in the pillow case until his knuckles turned white and he bit down on it with his teeth, head pounding almost painfully. He _hated_ talking to Blurry. It gave him a migraine, every single damn time.

_Snap. Snapsnapsnap._

Tyler lifted his head from his pillow after ten minutes of silence, supposing that he was lucky that his doppelgänger wasn't being particularly stubborn on his wishes tonight. He tossed the pillow back to the head of his bed before sitting up, mattress creaking in protest of the movement until he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood once again. His eyes scanned his desk; his papers, pens, and thoughts were in complete disarray. Tyler's head still ached when he sat down in his wooden chair, hands grasping for the papers and accidentally crinkling some in the process; it didn't matter, he'd throw them away soon enough anyway. He shuffled them as neat as he bothered to manage, holding the notebook and journal papers in one hand as he collected the writing utensils with the other. Tyler pushed both collections of items into the corner of his desk before pulling open the drawer to his right.

 

_Go to the forest. Climb something._

 

"No." Tyler shook his head as he pulled out a fresh piece of the loose notebook paper in the drawer, grabbing a pencil sharpener in the process.

The forest was where Tyler went when he couldn't deal with his problems. He'd find the tallest tree, try to climb it, and it would result in two ways. Back when he was a kid, it usually ended with him falling and getting hurt - he's broken four bones thanks to his bad habit. Or on better days, he'd reach the top and feel accomplished until he realized he didn't know how to get down. Now that he was older, he knew all the trees in the forest. He knew which ones specifically he'd fallen from, he knew each branch and every symbol he carved in his favorite ones to climb, and he knew how to get down each one he chose to scale. That didn't mean that at any moment, Tyler could accidentally make a wrong step, and a branch would snap under his weight right before he'd fall and break his neck. Blurry loved that risk.

Even back then, he had a friend who always would convince him not to.

He was a good friend.

Tyler grabbed one of the wooden pencils from the corner of his desk and jammed it into the sharpener, adjusting his grip each time he twisted it until it was just sharp enough to be usable. He placed the sharpener back down onto the desk, the graphite pencil now dragging across the paper as Tyler bent forward. It was as though he thought getting his brain closer to the paper would help his thoughts transfer easier onto it.

 

 _I can't sleep_  
_It's just taking time off my feet_  
_But my head instead is going a hundred miles a beat_  
_And I'm thinking as I'm sinking_  
_And he's winking at me_  
_Cause they know_  
_Desperation and temptation is free_

 

Tyler wrote like he was running out of time.

 

 _I can't live this way_  
_Just to write a song to play_  
_Just to stay alive_  
_Just enough to breathe away_  
_Another day_  
_Another face_  
_I will lose another race_  
_Save me now_

 _Cause tomorrow's gone_  
_Just like yesterday-_

 

Tyler's pencil snapped before he realized how hard the indentations of his pencil point had been, the graphite streaking the paper as he followed through the final letter. It was too late, and the pencil tore through the notebook paper and hit the top surface of his desk. Lifting it from the paper, his eyes looked over the bent wood and a frown deepened itself on his cheeks. Tyler then saw the large rip in the paper, going from the last word he written to the far edge. In frustration, Tyler tossed the pencil back into the drawer and scrunched the paper in his fist, crushing it and tearing at it until none of his words remained on the college-ruled lines. _It wasn't right._ He let the shreds fall to the ground, out of his palms, before something willed him to look up.

Tyler saw out to his neighborhood street through the open blinds of his window behind his desk, the house across the street being the focal point of his view. 

A moving truck in the driveway.

_A moving truck?_

Tyler had looked up just in time to see a truck pull in, entirely captivated. No one had lived in that house since the last owners had moved out. 

_Snap._

Tyler exhaled shakily before he swallowed, rubbing his wrist as he saw the apparent new owner open the front door of the black vehicle. A boy, skinny jeans, a tattooed sleeve on his arm that disappeared under a tight band t-shirt. Tyler couldn't tell what band it was from the distance his bedroom window was away. But what caught his attention most was the head of hair, wild and as blue-grey as the winter sky at the break of dawn...

 

Tyler lept forward, yanking the string of his blinds, shutting the world, and the boy across the street, out.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got hold of a laptop at last! Enjoy the chapter :)

He shouldn't be there.

 

_ That's Josh's house, no one else's. _

What kind of person would buy such a random property? It wasn't very appealing to the eyes, it wasn't unique, heck, it didn't even have a big yard like Tyler's house did; Tyler's house opened up to the woods, which he always bragged about to his best friend as a kid. What was that guy doing there, moving into a house with no benefits other than that it was close to the high school? Even then, the guy that Tyler saw simply could not have been in high school. He had tattoos, and clearly enough money to afford his own home.

_ Oh god, what if he's a drug dealer? _

Tyler didn't want to live across the street from a drug dealer. If his mom asked him to go and greet their new neighbor, he'd refuse. He wanted nothing to do with a guy who looked like such a punk, and just waltz right into Josh's home without a second thought. It made Tyler sick.

These thoughts wandered through Tyler's mind as he stared up at the cracking plaster of his bedroom ceiling, wide awake after having woken up in the middle of the night like usual. Blurry usually liked to come out and play at this time, but he wasn't the same as how he acted during the day. Blurry came to him in the form of erratic breathing, insomnia, cold sweats, anxiety... It was a whole new different kind of fear when it was just him, alone with his thoughts and the moonlight shining through his bedroom blinds. More intense, somehow. Blacker.

The sun rose eventually, and Tyler would finally remember that he still had some semblance of life left to live. The brunet's head turned, stopping when his cheek touched the right side of his pillowcase and he was gazing at his blank bedroom wall. He'd stay, usually, until his mother's voice called to him and he'd have to get up. Today was different; Tyler had gotten up early. Grasping the comforter he'd tossed lazily over the lower half of his body, he pushed it away and lifted himself up from his mattress. The new boy across the street had since been forgotten as he removed yesterday's clothes. He needed a shower. Tyler spotted the remnants of the paper he tore up the night before, holding his t-shirt in his left hand as he bent down to pick up one of the scraps from his carpet. He didn't even remember what he had written down, and maybe that was a good thing. Tyler hated his writing.

He observed the piece of paper, seeing the single word he was able to make out. _ Save _ . He licked his lips before dropping it, making a subtle note in his head to clean it up later. He needed to get ready.

Tyler wasn't very selective as he rummaged through his dresser to find a shirt and jeans, both somewhat wrinkly since he hadn't done a great job of folding. Realizing he left his hoodie downstairs, he glanced to the clock and decided that he could go down and get it. No one was up for another half an hour or so.

Tyler crept out of his bedroom and ignored turning on the hallway light, tiptoeing down his stairs and toward the hooks by the entryway where his grey hoodie hung still. The sun shown through the living room curtains as the only source of light in the room. It still smelled faintly of what his mother had made for dinner the night before, and his stomach growled in anger at him for his neglect. Tyler hadn't been that hungry the night before, but he supposed that he shouldn't starve himself.

 

He grabbed his hoodie and pulled it on, about to head toward the kitchen archway before two, ominous knocks sounded against the home's front door. Tyler froze, eyes going wide for a moment when his heart jumped inside his chest. 

Slowly turning, Tyler saw the figure on the other side of the door through the frosty glass window. His stomach sank at the blurry sight of bright blue hair.

 

Tyler's hand flew to his wrist, grasping for the rubber band that never left him, but found nothing. Eyes glancing down, his breath got caught in his chest when he found his wrist vacant of the rubber band. It must've fallen off in his sleep.

The brunet's throat suddenly grew dry and he didn't move an inch, as if the boy could somehow see him. A few more knocks, and Tyler was praying that none of his family members woke up to answer. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with this boy; he didn't care the slightest bit about the boy with the black truck and the sleeve of tattoos, yet Tyler knew he was scared of him. No good could come from someone who modified their body to such an extent. Who would want to permanently mark themselves with things that they may regret? Why risk scarring yourself for the sake of being appealing?

Thankfully, after another minute or so of the boy waiting, he turned and disappeared from Tyler's front step. Tyler sighed shakily and started breathing normally once more, quietly hoping to himself that he wouldn't come back.

 

_ Thank God it's Friday. _

 

Tyler forgot about the boy across the street and the incident that morning as the school day lulled along, longing for that time when the bell rung and he'd be released once again to lock himself up in his room for the weekend. As he stirred around the food on his lunch stray - his headphones in his ears yet playing nothing, he listened to the conversations of the people at the crowded other end of the table. 

"Did you hear he came back to town?"

"Who?"

"Josh, Josh  _ Dun _ . You know, that awesome kid that moved away in middle school. Tyler Joseph's best friend since, like, diapers?"

"I don't think they're friends anymore."

"Probably not, since Tyler got all depressed and stuff after he moved away."

"Do you think he even knows?"

"Never understood why Josh wanted to hang out with that guy..."

"You think he's listening?"

Tyler's heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he clutched his tray, quickly standing before he could feel the group's eyes on his back. Damn, did their words cause a hurricane of emotions to stir and bunch up tightly like a dead weight inside his chest. He didn't even think about the boy across the street at the time, too focused on dumping his tray and pulling up his hood before he got stopped by any of the teenagers trying to apologize to him. They weren't sorry, they were never sorry.

 

_ Don't tell me you're glad he's back. _

 

"I-I'm not... He's not back." Tyler corrected beneath his breath as he shuffled his way through the halls and toward the bathroom, fingers itching at his wrists. He fought the urge to snap his rubber band, teeth grinding, jaw clenched. His palm pushed open the stall door and he sat down on the toilet, rubbing his head.

 

_ Liar. _

 

"They're the liars, not me. Josh isn't back, he's never coming back." Tyler whispered, muffling himself with the back of his hand; didn't want anyone who happened to walk in to think that he was crazy, too. Josh never coming back was something Tyler so desperately believed in. It would hurt too much if the anxious boy with those hooded eyes of his waltzed back into his life. He was going off soon, to college. Tyler didn't have time to mend such a broken relationship even if he tried.

Or had the emotional strength.  _ Snap. _

The sting felt good that time. Listening to the buzz of the light fixtures over his head in the quiet stall, Tyler's eyes trailed from his lap and toward some sharpie graffiti above the toilet paper dispenser on the wall. "'Quiet is violent'..." Tyler read out loud softly, his brows furrowing. It sounded cheesy. Tyler liked it. He nearly smiled.

Tyler suddenly remembered the papers by his desk that he never cleaned up. The bell echoed through the empty bathroom from the hallway, bouncing off the white tiled walls, meaning class would be back in session in six minutes. Literature, one of Tyler's favorite, and frankly, best subjects. Though homework wasn't a strong suit, and his poems sometimes gave his teacher concern, he liked it. Learning new words to expand his vocabulary, and to use those words in his poems, was something he liked above all else. The one thing that Blurry couldn't take from him.

Maybe the second thing. Writing wasn't the only thing that made him like the class.

 

_ I'm alive. _

_ I'm on fire. _

_ Take me higher. _

 

"Tyler." Jenna's hand brushed his arm as she sat in the seat in front of him, spinning around his rest her elbows on his desk's surface. Blonde locks pulled in a messy bun, loose hoodie, and acid wash skinny jeans made her look the perfect amount of thrown together yet carefully thought out. Her hoodie sleeves covered her hands, like paws, as she brushed away a loose lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes; A mixture of cerulean and midsummer afternoon sky. "Do you have your poem ready?"

"...Yeah." Tyler sniffled pulled his notebook toward him, flipping through its pages. "I-It's here somewhere." His hands felt sweaty.

"Show me some of your other ones later, okay?" Jenna smiled, perfectly straight and pearly white. Too breathtaking.

"I was... Working on a new one last night. I'll show you sometime soon." Tyler stopped his flipping when he found a mostly blank page, apart from a few pen scribbles in the margin. It wasn't a lie, technically; Maybe he could figure out a way to put the shredded pieces of paper back together when he got home. Jenna was the _only_ person he showed his personal poems to. She accepted them, and didn't judge them. Probably most important of all, she didn't try and get him more help that he didn't need... And she was really pretty.

"I'm looking forward to that." Jenna, tapping Tyler's note page twice with her white fingernail before grinning one last time. Tyler nearly glared at the way the bell rang while she was speaking, making his ears hurt. She turned back around when the teacher moved to the front, and Tyler caught a glimpse of her collarbones that showed just barely out of her hoodie. Modest, cute.

Tyler's cheeks grew warm.

He busied himself quickly by grabbing his pen, drawing a circle and beginning to fill it densely with ink. He'd forgotten about the conversation during lunch.

 

He forgot about the neighbor boy, for a short while.

 

Jenna was nice enough to give him a ride home that day. Tyler stepped out onto the grass on the curb and shut the passenger door, giving Jenna a wave that she excitedly returned before pulling away. The brunet watched her leave down the asphalt street, his fingers running back and forth through his hair. Tyler glanced across the street and saw that the moving truck had vanished from the night before. All that remained was the black truck, and the blue-haired boy that was leaning casually against its door.

Tyler inhaled, his hand moving from his hair to brace against the strap of his backpack. He was looking at him.

The boy across the street was still, apart from the way his foot tapped against the concrete of his driveway. Constant and steady, as if he were waiting. Tyler could make him out more clearly now. His hair was almost silvery, more near the roots and a definite brighter blue toward the ends. It was fluffy, and Tyler could see not a lot of thought was put into styling it. Wild.

Strong arms folded across the boy's chest, the stark difference in the overlapping pale arm with the tattooed one being striking to Tyler. The sleeve was colorful, with greens and oranges and blues and purples, with something brown snaking up the center of his forearm - It was unlike anything Tyler had seen before. But his face was... Familiar, somehow. Tyler didn't know how.

 

"Hey!"

 

Tyler blinked widely, before it registered that the boy was moving closer to him, striding across the expanse of asphalt between them. The brunet's panic that kicked in was immediate, his head assuming the worst possible scenario. What did he want? _What did he want?_

In an attempt to get away before that question would be answered, Tyler turned around and grasped the back of his strap tightly. He ran towards his front steps.

 

"Tyler! _Wait!_ "

 

Tyler stopped, with his tense hand just barely hovering over the doorknob. The voice, desperate yet strong and steady, belonged to the boy that was now standing on his front lawn. Turning with caution, hand still over the doorknob, Tyler couldn't find the strength to look anywhere other than the ground. This boy knew his name.

"W-What do you want? Leave me alone, please-"

 

"It's _me,_ Tyler... It's Josh."


	4. Chapter 4

APRIL FOOLS BITCHES.

(But really, new chapter coming soon.)


End file.
